A Bowl of Elusive

How many of you thought you'd become an astronaut when you grew up? How many of you thought you'd become a spy like James Bond? How many of you thought that because you did something better than others this one time in school, meant you were special? How many of you felt like you were born to do great things? I am sure, all of you. And how many of you are doing great things? Some of you? Many of you are earning well, have great families, and have something to live for, but is that the greatness you envisioned growing up? Probably not, right? All of us as children have this wonder for life, this excitement for the things to come. And as we grow up, most of us, lose this excitement. My uncle used to tell me that our creativity comes from this excitement - this wonder - the same excitement that gives children the ability to appreciate animated movies. This wonder, this penchant to believe in miracles, drives a lot of children. As they grow up, they are faced with one disillusionme...

Indira Niwas, as I have iterated earlier also, was a mystical place. The fact that none of the people who lived there knew who the place actually belonged to, should tell you how legendary the house was. And crazy stuff happened there as well. I have earlier described the story of how Mirza found several fire extinguishers when he got back from his shift. This is about another interesting incident that happened there. Maybe a few weeks before the fire extinguisher incident, on a day when Mirza didn’t have to work, he’d invited Kritika to Indira Niwas during the day, when most of the others were either at the college or at work. Kritika was his girlfriend of two years and ever since they’d gotten separate training schedules, they had been meeting less and were struggling to keep the spark alive. So when Mirza called Kritika and told her that he’d have the place to himself on Wednesday, she quickly agreed to bunk classes and meet him. It had been a while since they fooled arou...

You don't see a lot of love letters these days. Its a pity how so many staples of the last generations are eventually becoming redundant due to new technology. Receiving a love letter on email while equally titillating for a person in love, will never hold the nostalgic value of a piece of paper with eternal markings of love. A love letter, even when its torn to bits is still a piece of history for its recipient. Will an email ever hold that kind of value? It was way back in 2004, I think when I received my first love letter. It was anonymous, just a few generic words on an Archie's card. But the card was scented. Roses, I remember. It smelt like roses. Now I have never been a romantic, but it was an experience. One that I still remember at times. Not romantically as such, but as a fond memory. The fun fact was that I still don't know for sure who actually sent that letter. I mean, I was pretty sure who it was, but the person I suspected never really admitted to act...